


There's Always Time Later

by anne_ammons



Series: Drabbles for Fairest of the Rare - Lovefest 2021 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Language of Flowers, Loss, Secret Relationship, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons
Summary: Sometimes it's too late to fix it.
Relationships: Hannah Abbott & Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott/Cedric Diggory
Series: Drabbles for Fairest of the Rare - Lovefest 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148042
Comments: 10
Kudos: 5
Collections: Love Fest 2021, Rare Pairs RHM Read for LoveFest





	There's Always Time Later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/gifts).



> Written for Lovefest 2021
> 
> Prompt: Flowers

Hannah carefully gathered the blossoms she wanted to hold. Her heart was crushed, and yet, even in the midst of her grief, she couldn’t be open about it. All eyes would on Cho today, after all, everyone presumed that she was Cedric’s sweetheart.

True, the two had gone to the Yule Ball together, but that had been a mistake. Cedric had admitted as much to her, as they had sat arguing in a deserted classroom.

_“What would you have me do, Hannah? You said you wouldn’t go with me. I needed to ask someone. A Triwizarding Champion can’t exactly go stag. You know she means nothing to me.” Cedric rubbed his face in his hands._

_Her face was streaked with tears. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she was only fifteen, and her grandmother had made clear that proper witches didn’t have suitors before they were nearly of age. It was one of those arcane Pureblood rules that she didn’t always get, and wasn't sure applied to her. After all, she was a Halfblood. However, the Abbott matriarch, as proper as she was, was indifferent to that fact and had always taught Hannah what the traditions of her house entailed._

_“Just a few more months, Cedric,” she pleaded. “As soon as I turn sixteen, we can be public about things. You can petition my father. We can-”_

_“You’re asking too much, love. I don’t want to hide you. I can’t keep pretending. It’s always something else. Our housemates, your parents. I’m trying to be patient, but everyone has limits, Hannah. Your grandmother made that up to control you. Other Purebloods have no issues dating.”_

_That had crossed her mind, but it was a moot point. She’d promised her grandmother that she wouldn’t bring shame to the family, and that meant creeping around in secret, having fallen in love before she should have. However, none of it was easy, and she wondered if they were both better off apart until her birthday came in the fall. It would be so much simpler that way. No sneaking around, no worrying about being caught. Besides, so much of Cedric’s attention was on the Tournament anyway._

_“Fine,” she’d said bitterly. “Do what you must. I guess if we’re not worth it...”_

_“Not worth it? Hannah, I never said I couldn’t wait. I don’t want to wait. I want everyone to know that you’re my girl. It feels like a lie having Cho fawn over me when my interest is somewhere else.”_

_He’d pulled her in and kissed her then. Not those little pecks that they had done before — this was a real kiss, imbued with all the passion they’d denied themselves these past several months._

_Hannah opened her mouth to him when his tongue pressed against her lips, and she felt as if her very core was on fire._

_Eventually, she pulled away, panting. “I- I can’t. You know how I feel about you, but I have to wait. When school is out, I’ll talk to my parents. We’ll figure out something.”_

_She turned and ran from the room. She couldn’t escape him for very long, given they were in the same house, but she knew he wouldn’t press her. Outside, they could do nothing more than sit together in the library, pretending he was helping her with revisions, or she’d pose as yet another groupie looking for the attention of one of the Hogwarts champions._

That was then. There was supposed to have been a later. Hannah had promised to work things out, to talk to her family, to find out whether there was more to her grandmother’s words. Now, it was all a moot point.

She smoothed her black robes and looked down at the flowers once again. Her grandmother had also been the one to teach her the language of flowers, so she knew her choices were correct:

Red carnations to bear witness to her heartache

Pink camellias for longing

Blue salvia as he’d always be in her thoughts

Gardenias to represent the love they’d shared in secret

At the center, she’d placed one deep crimson rose to represent her mourning. She wasn’t sure what things would look like now that there was no later. Summer was nearly upon them and she hadn’t had a chance to make it right.

* * *

She stood at the back, bouquet in hand. If she were to move into the room, it would make it real, and she wasn’t sure she was ready.

How was she expected to sit through this? She didn’t know.

She heard a quiet voice behind her.

“Hannah.”

Neville Longbottom. He was not nearly as loud and brash as his Gryffindor housemates, and while he wasn’t the best at potions, Hannah had always chalked that up to Professor’s Snape’s bullying. Besides, Neville had a quiet strength that she admired.

She turned to face him and saw he was looking down at the flowers in her hands.

She blanched. Neville’s forte was Herbology. If anyone else might be paying enough attention to know what she was carrying, it would be him.

He raised his eyes to hers and gave her a small smile.

“Come, I’ll sit with you.”

He took her arm and led her into the room, finding a seat where they could hear all the words that were offered to laud the boy who had died far to young.

Neville, goofy, awkward, sweet Neville. He pressed his leg against hers as they sat, and it grounded her. It gave her something to focus on, as the minutes passed and the parade of speakers continued.

Besides, she wasn’t here to hear what others had to say about Cedric, she had known him for herself.

As the memorial service ended and the mourners filed out, Neville helped her stand and led her to the front, where a photo of Cedric sat. It was one of the official portraits that had been taken during the Triwizarding Tournament. The likeness of him flashed a smile that was every bit as disarming as it had been in life. She knew — she had clipped this very picture to save herself when it had been printed in the _Prophet._ Unfortunately, she didn't have it any longer. She had crumpled it and tossed it away when they had squabbled about something that she couldn’t even remember at this point. At the time, it had seemed like such a small thing, an outlet for her unhappiness. She knew that there would be other photos, other clippings later, after they made up.

Neville stepped to the side, but said nothing, as Hannah ran her hand over the frame. Her tears threatened to spill over, and she was so very tired of crying. She took a deep breath and leaned in, hoping to say a few words to him. She knew it was silly; the Cedric in the photograph couldn’t hear them, but surely somehow he would know.

There was so much she wanted to say. I’m sorry. I always was on your side. I love you. However, the words didn’t come, so she laid the flowers down. The arrangement said all the things that she hadn’t had a chance to say. It would have to do, since for them, later would never come.

She stepped back and Neville was there at her side once more, offering his arm for support.

“Come, I know a place that’s quiet. If you want, you can tell me about him.”

She took a deep breath and gathered herself before taking his hand. She would have all the time in the world to grieve, and perhaps, by sharing this part of herself with someone, Cedric might live in her memories once more.


End file.
